


Ember in the Shadows

by TheSlayer47



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crests (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Crimes & Criminals, Detectives, Humor, M/M, Mystery, Slow Burn, Swearing, TWSITD Exploration, Tension, medieval weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlayer47/pseuds/TheSlayer47
Summary: No blood. No wound. No illnesses.Nothing.Baffled, the medical examiner said besides being lifeless, the bodies are perfectly healthy.Newly promoted detective Felix Fraldarius has a lot to prove. Determined to solve the mysterious circumstances surrounding the murders, he unfortunately needs the help of his ex, Dimitri Blaiddyd- the well-loved and highly respected investigative reporter.Oh, what little they know of the darkness they’ll encounter and if they can resist its allure.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 10
Kudos: 8
Collections: 2021 Dimilix Week, Felix Birthday Weekend 2021





	1. Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If mystery and angst is your jam, I hope you enjoy! There will be multiple chapters :-)
> 
> **CW** End of the chapter has a death & a half. (no blood, it’s magic).
> 
> This first chapter was made for #2021dimilix week, Day 8, Prompt: Free Day & with angsty/edgy Felix in mind for #felixbday2021  
> (( If you find this because of Dimilix week... then I'll tell yuh now, these are *not* my sweet, fluffy bebe's in my 'that time...' series. Far from it ))

_“DAMN IT!”_

At least the coffee was cold. But _fuck._ Now Felix’s jeans are wet on the crotch, and the last thing he wants today is getting stupid jokes about pissing his pants.

Some of the coffee got on his seat, but that doesn’t matter. The rolling chairs have upholstery so stained that there’s never been a consensus on what their original color was.

 _“GAUTIER!”_ Felix snarls, throwing the styrofoam cup at the red-head. “How many times do I have to tell you to keep your shit off my desk?” 

Sylvain flinches when the cup bounces off his face, but breaks out in a goofy grin. “Oh, there’s my coffee!”

“Disgusting you drink that cheap filth,” Felix grumbles. “It’s been sitting in the breakroom all day. And a witness is supposed to be here in ten minutes! I can’t interview them like-” cut off by his cell vibrating, he checks the text and groans. 

“Let me guess,” Sylvain chuckles. “They can’t come.”

 _“This fucking day…”_ Clicking the contact, he glares at Sylvain as it rings, and rings, and- “Hello, Mr. Bersaw! Got your text,” Felix says, using what everyone calls his _bullshit voice_. So friendly, his co-workers are positive the witnesses can hear the fakeness dripping off it. “I understand you had a busy day, and maybe you’d like to get dinner, but if you could just pop down and clear up some confusion, that’d be very helpful.” 

_Ugh._ The man rambles on about how his lizard has been acting weird, and he needs to take him to a reptile veterinarian. Because apparently that’s more important than, you know, helping solve a murder. 

“I am so sorry to hear about your lizard, sir. I hope they’ll be ok.” As Felix rolls his eyes, Sylvain slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. “Uh huh, well-“ he pauses as the man drones on again. “Oh, I know you didn’t do it, sir! I promise you’ll be in and out really quick-” _click._ The fucker hung up on him. 

“Right, just hang up on the detective. Doesn’t raise suspicions _at all_ ,” Felix complains, flinging the cell onto his worn-down, pinewood desk.

Picking the styrofoam cup off the ground, Sylvain rolls his chair across the scuffed, tiled floor and slaps Felix’s shoulder. “Ahh, cheer up! Now you don’t have to explain why you peed your- _AH!”_

Felix opens his mouth to retort when Sylvain is shoved away. He grunts when he slams into his desk, making his absurdly large stack of files tumble to the floor. 

“What the actual fuck, Pinelli?” Sylvain snaps, seeing the pixie-haired detective laughing behind him. “Now all this shit is everywhere!”

Leonie scoffs as she walks past him. “ _Boo fuckin’ hoo,_ Gautier.” Plopping in her seat, she props her combat boots on her desk. “You were taking up the whole walkway, so stop your damn complaining. Maybe if you weren’t such a slob, that would’ve never been a problem. We have this crap for a reason.” 

She points at the metal filing cabinet under her desk. Like everyone else’s, it’s dinged up from years of frustrated kicks from civilians and _definitely_ the detectives themselves.

Sylvain widens his eyes, pausing from picking up the papers. “ _Oh!_ You want to talk about slobs, huh? I’ve been in your car, and that is _foul-”_

“-it’s just plastic water bottles! They don’t smell-”

“-AND COFFEE CUPS! You _do_ know that coffee dregs mold, right? And I’m just gonna throw this out there- how about you get a _reusable_ water bottle?!”

Felix pockets his cell and ambles to the Captain’s office, leaving them to bicker about stupid shit.

Captain Eisner, while fair, is an intimidating man. Between his detached expression and dry humor, it’s nearly impossible to tell if he’s being serious or screwing with you. (Unless you’re Felix’s ex, then he’s perfectly friendly). And it doesn’t help that he’s an _enormous_ man. Towering above everyone else, he’s probably 250lbs of pure muscle.

He used to be a Captain of the Knights of Serios, frequently deployed to different parts of Fódlan or to other countries. Between his skills with lances, hands like a blacksmith’s anvil, and the fact that his Crest emphasises strength, it’s no wonder he became the famous ‘Blade Breaker’. Why he left KoS to become the Captain of the 13th precinct is beyond anyone. 

“Captain,” Felix says, lightly rapping the doorframe. 

He doesn’t lower the papers he’s reading as he peers over his glasses, cocking an eyebrow. “Piss yourself, Fraldarius?” 

Felix fights the urge to scowl. “More like Gautier leaving his shit everywhere. This is coffee.” Felix takes a couple steps into the office, gripping the back of a chair in front of the Captain’s oak desk. “Anyway, my witness cancelled. That was the last thing I had for the day.”

The Captain blankly stares at him before setting the papers down and taking off his glasses. “That's it, huh?” He rubs his tired eyes. “I expected better.”

Well, that’s hardly fair. _“Tch,_ I did my best. Put on the bull- eh, I was friendly and everything! He had to take care of his fucking lizard, then hung up on me.”

“Call him again tomorrow. You have jack shit and need every potential witness you have.”

Felix knows this. He’s pretty sure the Captain was pissed at him when he was told to take this impossible case months ago. A perfectly healthy body, suddenly dead? 

Typically, a case like this would be dismissed. But the woman was found with these thick, unidentifiable roots sprung from pavement near her body… and one of them had quite the hack job done to it. Just _bizarre._

Taking a deep breath, Felix thinks back to when he got this damn case. 

His friend and the Medical Examiner, Bernie, called and asked him to come to the morgue.

“The cause of death is undetermined!” She squeaked, eyeing Felix cautiously. They’ve been friends long enough that he doesn’t take her anxious demeanor personally. “I couldn’t find anything wrong with her.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Varley, come on, this is a 50, maybe 60 year old woman. You’re telling me there were no natural or suspicious-”

“-53, and I said what I said!” She yelped, peeling off her nitrile gloves and tossing them in the medical waste bin. “Not from natural causes. No hints of self-harm or harm from others. No illnesses or diseases detected…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “She’s perfectly healthy! Well, except for the whole dead thing.”

Gnawing his cheek, Felix nodded to her before leaving the morgue. When he got back to his desk, he did a quick search to see if any other cases like this in the past few years. But nothing came up, making his brain whir. While Felix loves a good puzzle, this is beyond anything he’s seen. Even though he’s only been a detective for a year, he was a cop for four. He’s seen some shit. 

Felix expels a long-suffering sigh. “Captain, unless I finally get a call from the lab about the fingerprints from the switchblade found near the body, then I’m just in paperwork hell. And you know the lab is backlogged for weeks-”

“Still don’t have those fingerprints, Fe?” A deep, smooth voice sounds from the doorway. 

Felix ducks his head. _Fucking hell, can this day get worse?_

Jeralt beams as he stands, holding his hand out. “Dimitri! What brings you here?” 

Dimitri Blaiddyd- always the most charming and attractive person in the room. With his shaggy blond hair, sharp cheekbones, full lips, and dashing smile… hell, not even the milkyness of his blind eye throws people. On a man like him, it just adds to his beguiling nature. 

“Hello Captain! You’re looking good in that orange blazer. How stylish of you!” Dimitri says, smiling brightly. 

Felix rolls his eyes. He knows what his ex is doing. Dimitri lays compliments on thick when he wants something. Not that he needs to do that, everyone falls over themselves for the guy. Like a second of his attention will make them shit gold. _There’s so much they don’t know._

“Ah, well my daughter got this for me,” Captain says, smirking. “Found it at a thrift store, if you can believe it.”

Wanting to get away as soon as possible, Felix starts backing out of the room. But not fast enough. 

“Wait a second, Fe.” Dimitri reaches out and rests a hand on Felix’s shoulder. And _dammit,_ a jolt shoots down his spine. “Didn’t you need to talk to me about something?” 

For a moment Felix spaces out, trying to remember if that’s true. Then it clicks and he nods. “Oh, right. Yeah, come to my car then.” 

“I’ll be there in about ten minutes!” Dimitri exclaims, flashing his perfect smile. “I just need to chat with Captain here for a moment, then say hi to a few others, of course.” 

With a curt nod, Felix leaves the office and goes to the bathroom. After doing a decent job of drying his pants, he goes to his desk. Grabbing his leather briefcase and laptop, Felix heads to the back door leading to the parking lot when Sylvain pops out of the breakroom with his styrofoam cup filled to the brim with that mud.

“Coming out tonight? Thirsty Thursday at Frank’s!”

Felix furrows his brows. “I thought you were on call?”

“No, thank Goddess. Ingrid is.” He cackles, a little twinkle in his eye. “She’s been in court all day providing testimonies.” 

Felix grimaces. “That’s shitty. Fucking hate days like that. Even though most of them are long.” He thinks of all the paperwork he has to do. “Eh, I don’t know about tonight…”

“Ahh, really? You’ve skipped out the past few weeks.” Sylvain presses his palms together. _“Pretty please?_ C’mon, hang out!” 

As Sylvain watches his friend's face fall, his voice drops to a whisper. “I’ve already talked to Dimitri, and he isn’t coming. Has to finish an article for a deadline.” He pats Felix’s shoulder. “Anyway, it’ll be fun. Hilda even convinced Hapi to come!”

Felix snorts. “Damn, our secretary can get anyone to do anything, can’t she? But… ugh, alright.” 

With a triumphant grin, Sylvain punches a fist in the air. “Great! I just need to finish one thing and I’ll be there. An hour tops. Hilda’s already there, of course. Anyway, see yuh.” Sylvain waves as he heads back to his desk. 

Rubbing his neck, Felix walks out and heads to his car. 

*

He’s leaning against his silver Camry when Dimitri finally comes through the back door of the precinct. 

He swallows as Dimitri ambles over. The glow of the street-lamps illuminates him, and Felix’s heart flips when he notices the blond tied his hair up in a half-ponytail. _Uhg. Bastard did that on purpose._ Months after their breakup, Dimitri still has a strong effect on him. And oh, does Felix try to suppress his lingering feelings. But he can’t control the dreams of the heated nights they shared in bed, or easily forget the way Dimitri’s touch could make his worries fade.

“It’s good to see you,” Dimitri says quietly, the confident smile from earlier gone. “You… you look good.”

A touch of pink appearing on Felix’s cheeks, he simply nods before moving to his trunk. “I have the last of your stuff from the apartment. You need to take it.”

Felix forces himself to not look at Dimitri. He doesn’t need to, knowing the exact somber expression he must be wearing… and Felix just… just _can’t._

“All my stuff?” Dimitri draws a long breath, peering into the box. “You sure you don’t want to keep the milk frother for-”

“-I want nothing of yours. So,” he says brusquely. “Take it and go.” 

When the box is out, he slams the trunk shut. To his dismay Dimitri sets it on the ground, and inexorably, Felix glances at his face.

With sadness clouding his features, Dimitri utters, “One more hug? ... _Please?”_

His heart wrenches. That please was said so softly, and his gaze so earnest. 

Seeing no one around, Felix nods and steps forward, wrapping his arms around the blond’s waist. He intended it to be brief, but in a millisecond he’s thrown right back. Dimitri’s comforting sandalwood scent, the softness of his shirt, and the warmth of his body all remind him of happier times. As Dimitri draws him closer, Felix feels the vibration as his ex hums, pleased. 

_“I miss you,”_ Dimitri whispers, his lips on Felix’s ear, making him shiver.

It’s as if all the air escaped his lungs, the burning sensation snaking through him. Gasping, he backs and pushes Dimitri away. _“No._ Don’t do that.” 

Kicking the box away, Felix hurries to his car door and fumbles with his keys, trying to unlock it. 

Dimitri takes a rattling breath. “Fe, I mean it. I miss you. I- I understand why you ended things. What I did, it was-” he chokes up. “I-I’m _so sorry._ I just want to make this right, I’ll never do it again-”

“-how many times have you apologized to me?” Felix snaps harshly, glaring at him. “Repeatedly, for months. Between how you’ve been, and what happened…” His voice falters. _“I can’t do this.”_

Yanking his car door open, Felix sits and tries to shut it when Dimitri grabs on. “I called a therapist,” he says quickly. “My first meeting is tomorrow.” Dimitri whips out this phone and shows Felix his calendar. _4pm, Dr. Nevrand._

Felix sighs, then softly says, “I’m… I’m glad. Do that. But it won’t change my mind.” 

Closing the door in defeat, Dimitri backs away as Felix starts the car and drives off. 

Four good years, the fifth rough, and the sixth terrible. 

What he’d give to relive those four. 

*

Felix weaves through the crowd on the popular, busy strip of shops and bars as he makes his way to Mittlefrank Bar & Grill. It’s only two blocks from the precinct, so he could’ve easily walked here, but he wants to head straight home afterwards. 

As soon as he opened the heavy cherry wood door, the wonderful aromas of freshly baked hamburger buns overcame him.

“Hey Felix! I’ll get your usual going.” The bar owner, Thea, calls when she sees him.

“Great, thanks.” He says appreciatively, walking over and slapping his debit card on the counter.

She tosses it with the other open tabs. When she gets a good look at his face, she frowns. “Tough day?” She asks kindly, her peridot eyes gazing at him with concern.

He fakes a smile. “No, it was fine.” 

Thea draws her mouth in a hard line. She always had a knack for knowing when someone isn’t being honest. But for the most part, her philosophy is if someone wants to talk- they will.

She hums. “ _Right.”_ Dropping an ice cube in a glass, she free pours some bourbon and slides it to him. “Well, your first one is on me.”

While Felix wants to argue, he knows it’ll be a losing battle. “Thanks, Thea.”

“Of course. Now, your food will be out soon. Go on!” She shakes her bar rag at him and he smirks before heading to the back of the restaurant.

The brick walls are covered with police memorabilia: patches from the departments throughout Faerghus, plaques, polaroids of celebrating things like birthdays or retirements, and photos of officers who have passed away- such as Thea’s parents when she was young.

The previous owner of the bar, Manuela, was her foster mom until she adopted her. When it was time for her to retire, Thea and her wife, Petra, happily took over. 

As he passes the pool tables, he nods to Raphael and Caspar, two cops he served with. 

“Fraldarius! Wanna play some pool?” Caspar booms, moving to grab another cue stick.

 _“Bergliez!”_ Raphael barks, straightening after trying to hit a billiard ball, missing the 12 by a quarter of an inch. He shakes his head af Felix. “Sorry Fraldarius! Normally I like playin’ with yuh- but I don’t feel like getting my ass kicked tonight.” 

Felix waves his hand dismissively. “Eh, it’s fine, Kirsten. I don’t feel like it anyway.”

“At least with Bergliez,” Raphael gives a lopsided grin. “I have a chance at winning.”

 _“Dream on!”_ Caspar guffaws. “I’ve won way more times.”

Patting his partner on the back, Raphael slowly nods. “Yes, that’s right, little man. So many-”

“- _don’t patronize me!”_ Tugging his sleeve up, he flexes his bulky muscles. “And nothing about this is fucking little. Just because you’re a giant-”

“FELIX! YOUR FOOD IS HERE!”

Looking past Raphael, he sees their secretary waving her hand and pointing at his burger. Raphael and Caspar are comparing their muscles as he walks away. You think those two would be terrible partners, but when their uniforms are on, they’re on top form.

“Yuh know, yuh coulda just been here when it arrived,” she groans, twirling her bubblegum hair. “Then I wouldn’t’ve had to make such an effort.” 

Felix rolls his eyes as he slides into the semicircular booth, sitting next to one of their dispatchers, Hapi. Per usual when she does come, she looks extremely bored. 

Using the umbrella that came with her frilly drink, she stabs one of the cherries. “Want this Fifi?” 

“Don’t call me that. And no, I don’t like cherries.” What no one knows is the reason he hates them is because he always seems to choke on them.

Hapi shrugs lazily. “Ehh, I don’t like them either.” She smacks her lips, then pops it in her mouth anyway. Her face scrunches in disgust as she chews. Felix gawks at her, confused, as she swallows and shakes her head. _“Bleh!_ Yup, still hate them.”

While Hapi is great at her job, and on occasion he thinks she’s funny… But she's also kinda weird, and he’s never really sure what to say to her. So he decides to say nothing and starts eating his bacon burger. As always, Petra makes it perfect. Extra crispy bacon, no onion or mayo, some pink, with cheddar cheese, and garlic fries on the side.

“In the future I’ll eat the cherries, Hapi.” Hilda says, playing with her gold dangling earring. 

With a deep sigh, she says, “Sure, Hilly. Oh, and Claudy has been eating your fries.” 

Hilda glares at the chestnut-haired man next to her, who smirks as he eats another fry.

 _“Claude!”_ She shrieks. “Ugh, I even asked if I should order an extra basket, and you said no!” 

“Personally, I think food tastes better when it’s free.” He chuckles, snatching another fry.

Hilda pushes him. “Serios help me, you’re so stupid. You’re a freaking forensic science technician and make _way more_ money than me. So cough up, cheapo! You owe me a dollar for each fry you take. And since I don’t know how many-”

“-six.” Hapi says before taking a sip of her drink.

Claude dramatically slaps a hand over his chest and drops his jaw. “How could you, Hapi! I thought we were friends!”

Hapi flops back, her shocking red hair blending with the booth as she stares at the ceiling. _“Don’t care,”_ she mumbles. 

Beaming, Hilda pokes Claude’s shoulder. “Ha, ha! _Six!_ And I want you to use that to buy jello shots.”

Claude laughs as he wipes his salty hands on his lightweight yellow sweatshirt. “Yeah, yeah, Hils. But we’re sharing!” He takes a sip of his beer before pulling cash out of the ridiculous fanny pack he wears. “Felix _definitely_ looks like he could use one.”

Claude lopes off before Felix can protest. “Jello and bourbon.” He says wryly. “The perfect combination.”

“You? Take a jello shot? HA!” Leonie laughs as she takes Claude’s previous spot, Sylvain right behind her. 

“Don’t worry, Felix. I’ll take care of it.” The red-head says with a smirk.

Claude comes back with the shots, and Felix immediately slides his across the table to Sylvain. He does throw the rest of his bourbon back while the others try to eat the jello.

Felix asks one of the waitresses for another bourbon with ice, then he just listens as the others start reliving amusing stories of academy, their first years as a cop, or other dumb mistakes they’ve made. Occasionally, he notices Sylvain eyeing him and he remembers to add a smirk or chuckle here and there. He’d rather not have his childhood friend try to get him to talk about his _feelings._

 _“My favorite story,”_ Leonie chuckles, red-faced from laughing. “Is when Sylvain caught his date stealing money out of the restaurant’s register!” She snorts and gasps for air. _“And you had to take her in!”_

Sylvain drags his hand down his face. “That was definitely one of my worst dates. She was in the bathroom and I realized I had to go too. What an idiot, though. Why would you commit a crime when you’re on a date with a cop?”

Claude takes another sip of beer then says, “I think the worst part of what you said is that’s only _‘one’_ of your worst dates. But you know what…” His emerald eyes twinkle mischievously. “I’d love to take this opportunity to hear more awful date stories! I’ll go first-”

Felix clenches his jaw. _No, no, and_ _definitely not._

He gets up and heads to the bar to pay his tab. He’s already stayed here longer than he intended, anyway. He’s only taken a couple steps when Sylvain has an arm around his shoulders, and he steers him to the men’s restroom. Felix tries to escape his friend’s grasp, but to no avail. 

Sylvain checks the stalls to make sure no one else is there before facing him. “Ok, Fe, what happened?” 

Felix keeps his face blank. “I don’t know what-”

 _“Oh, please._ We’ve been friends too long, so don’t pretend with me. Dimitri told me you asked him to meet before he left.”

Felix lets out a single, frustrated laugh. “I just needed him to take his last box of stuff. I’ve asked him for months to pick it up and he hasn’t. So, I brought it to him.” 

Sylvain crosses his arms and frowns. “Fe,” he says softly. “What happened? You won’t tell me, Dimitri isn’t saying anything-”

“Because it’s none of your business,” he says sharply. Then he takes a deep breath. “Sorry. It’s just… this is between Dimitri and I.”

Before he knows it, Sylvain is wrapping him in a hug. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’d keep it a secret.” He lets go. “Or at least see a therapist, Fe. You were together six years… and have loved each other even longer.”

Avoiding Sylvain’s gaze, Felix firmly says, “I got this, Guateir. Don’t bring it up again.” He leaves the bathroom, hearing Sylvain curse behind him.

Felix closes his tab, then speeds out of there before anyone else can talk to him. He’s walking down the street, dodging people as they make their way to the next bar, and rubs his temples. _Maybe I_ _should get a therapist… not like I can talk to anyone else. Especially not Sylvain. He could never know._

As Felix walks a flash of light catches his eye. It only takes a quick glance to realize it’s a flickering street-lamp in a dirty alley, nothing unusual. 

“Oh! Sorry,” he mumbles as he bumps into a tall man. The man just waves his hand before turning into the alley. Finding his car, Felix gets in and heads home.

*

The man’s leather wing-tipped shoes clack on the pavement, sometimes mingling with the fluttering trash scattered in the darkened alleyway, the stench of urine and rotting food permeating the air. 

A dying street-lamp emits just enough light so he doesn’t trip over a decomposing cat, long-pecked apart by crows; or run into any of the dumpsters haphazardly placed near the center of the alley.

Behind him, noises of the busy, bar laden street reverberate off the brick buildings. Drunk college students, bachelor parties, or _thirty, flirty, and thriving_ birthday nonsense. 

“Pathetic fools,” he sneers, stroking his chin-strap beard. As he straightens his black tie, he halts as a cold breeze hits his back, contradicting the summer heat. 

Narrowing his lavender eyes, he slowly examines his surroundings. _Ah. Any moment now._

_Whoosh._

Whipping his head around, the man’s gaze meets the pupiless, white eyes of his superior, and he holds back the urge to scrunch his face in disgust. 

His superior’s body has deteriorated dramatically since they last spoke. Skin is sagging off what was once a young and handsome face. The black, chin length hair has thick streaks of white. What had been sharp cheekbones are now sunken. Skeletal. 

Genuflecting down on one knee, the man’s sleek ponytail falls over his shoulder. “Thales, it’s an honor to-”

 _“Get up,”_ Thales snaps, his deep voice raspy and breathy. _“Arundel. You have failed me.”_

Arundel smiles weakly. “No, sir. It’s taking longer than we expected.” He keeps his voice even, smooth. “I always keep my word. I have never failed you.”

 _“And yet, you have never impressed me,”_ he hisses, gazing hungrily at his servant. _“But you’ll have to do.”_

The pavement rumbles under Arundel’s feet. Black roots break the surface, gripping his ankles tight, a biting cold penetrates into his bloodstream, paralyzing him.

Thales’ physical form collapses to the ground. As it smacks onto the pavement, it changes back into the young man it used to be. In its stead, hovering in front of his servant, is a ghost-white inhuman being, purple veins throbbing in its neck and reeking of decay. 

Eyes widening in horror, Arundel tries to scream, but no sound escapes him. Not even the whisper of a breath.

Pain explodes in his head, and his eyes are overcome with blinding whiteness as the being touches him. His head jerks back as Thales melds into Arundel’s body, like a blade is opening his throat. Desperate for air, he gargles and chokes until a grey, pellucid mist rushes out of his mouth, coiling until it dissipates into the night. 

After a few, wheezy gulps of air, Thales examines his new form. Lifting his arms, he furls and unfurls his strong, thick hands. Cracks resound from his neck as he stretches it. _Yes. This will do just fine._

Smirking, he turns on the spot and disappears, leaving nothing except the lifeless form of his previous host body in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Shout out to my bestie kayladb- who will listen to ideas and brainstorm at basically any hour of the day, and is my built-in beta reader lol. Appreciate yuh, friend <3
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments! And kudos always appreciated.
> 
> Twitter: [@HiStacyHere](https://twitter.com/HiStacyHere/)


	2. Blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another body is discovered and Felix gets the results of the fingerprints he's been waiting on... and the result is less than ideal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: crime scene, brief talk of body decomposition (like --very-- brief but thought I’d say it just in case)

Skiing in Sreng.

Lounging on the beach in Brigid.

At a farmers market in Almyra.

Eating at a sketchy bar when their car broke down on a road trip through Fódlan. 

A collection of photo booth strips- smiling, laughing, kissing.

All gone.

Now the walls of Felix’s bedroom are blank. Even in the dark room it’s easy to see the contrast in paint color. Thanks to light and time, the walls are a lighter blue than they once were when he and Dimitri first painted them. But now there are squares of the darker shade where frames used to be, serving as a constant reminder of what is no more. 

The frames? Donated. The pictures? In a box under Felix’s bed.

He’s tried to throw them away on many occasions. After a night of consuming multiple glasses of bourbon, he was about to toss the whole box into his fireplace. But there was something whispering to him- _not yet._

The sleeping form of Felix is anything but sound; all night he was tossing and turning. But even through all that, he only stays on ~~his~~ one side of the bed.

_Ring, ring!_

Felix wakes up gasping.

Sweat is beading on his forehead and his chest rapidly rises and falls. A victim he’s previously investigated haunted his slumber. Which isn’t unusual, this is something most people in his line of work experience. A good night's sleep rarely comes easy.

_Ring, ring!_

Blinking wearily, he reaches for his phone. _5:36am._

 _“Fraldarius,”_ he croaks. 

“Morning Detective,” Hapi drawls. “There’s a signal 7 for you. Ready to copy?” 

Throwing his sheets aside, he swings his feet off the bed. He puts Hapi on speaker phone and picks up the pen and paper he keeps on the nightstand. 

“Go on, Cinza.” 

He jots the address down, thanks her, and hangs up. _This is going to be a long day._

Felix trudges to the bathroom, beginning his routine. Which is important when you can be woken up at any hour of the night. But honestly, today isn’t that bad. How many times has he been called at 1 or 2am?

Removing his boxer briefs, he turns the shower tap on. Felix prefers to shower in the dark. Hot water pounding on his back is a much gentler way to wake up versus the shocking brightness of a fluorescent light. Laying his hands on the tile of his shower wall, head ducked, the stream cascades down his back over his scars and Crest. Thick and black, his- like all the Crests- stretch shoulder to shoulder and neck to tailbone. He, Ingrid, and Sylvain all used their Crests more often when they were patrol officers. Not so much anymore. But still, as Felix gets out of the shower and continues to get ready, he remembers to put the silver Aegis ring on his finger, straps on his dagger (that or an axe is required for all personnel), and his sword. 

-

As Felix waits for his french press coffee to brew, he throws the breakfast sandwich he prepped the night before into the microwave and stares into space as he waits.

The walls of his living room are almost as blank as the bedroom. Dimitri was the one who enjoyed collecting art, he was always good at decorating. Felix? Not so much. He’s wanted to get around to buying some photos or paintings or something to hang on the walls, but it’s not his priority. 

When his coffee is ready and in a tumbler, he grabs everything he needs and heads out the door. Felix doesn’t look at the single, off-centered painting on the wall. 

The only one that stayed. 

  
  


*******

  
  


“Bergliez!” Felix shouts. “What do we have?” 

Felix walks down the alley, lit up by flood lights since the sun is only just starting to rise. As he approaches the body he halts and coughs, surprised by the stench of decay. Opening the lid of his coffee tumbler, he brings it to his nose and inhales deeply. The scent of his dark coffee doesn’t quite mask the smell, but it’ll do until he adjusts. 

_This alley is fucking disgusting._ There’s a dead cat, an absurd amount of dumpsters, trash everywhere. And of course, the reason this was made suspicious enough to call detectives- black roots sticking out of the pavement.

Evidence markers are so scattered all across the alley that you have to tread carefully, or the crime scene investigators will be pissed. Just in case it is a homicide, then they don’t know if something here was touched by, or stepped on by the murderer. So, all of it goes to the lab. The corner of Felix’s mouth twitches as he watches the CSI, Dedue, examine the trash before meticulously putting it in evidence bags. Claude, the forensic scientist in charge of analyzing all evidence, has a shit ton of work to do. 

But Felix’s gut is twisting. This happened between the bar and the precinct. _The press will have a field day if they catch wind of this, especially if it’s that fuckhead reporter Gloucester._

“Hey Detective!” Caspar cheerfully says as he jogs up to Felix. “The ID in his wallet identifies the victim as Giles Caillier. Dispatch got the call at 4:12am this morning from that woman,” he points down the way. A young woman who can’t be much older than 19 is wiping her tears as Ingrid interviews her. 

Caspar rests a hand on the axe in its holster. “She cut through the alley on her way to her job, and found the body. We’ve also collected all the license plates of cars parked around here.”

“Thanks, Bergliez.” As Caspar trots away, Felix makes a mental note to call the neighboring shops when they open, hoping their security cameras work. 

Putting the lid back on his coffee, he walks up to Bernie. She’s leaning over the body, her hair pulled back and covered with a hairnet, mask on, and nitrile gloves tight on her hands as she looks over the victim.

“Varley,” Felix tries to say gently when he’s closer, but as usual- she jumps.

“Fel- Fral- _Detective!”_ She squeaks. “Uhg, you always sneak up on me!”

“I beg to differ. You’re just focused. So?” Felix nods to the victim.

Her shoulders droop. “Similar to the other body so far. Right now I don’t see anything that will help me determine a cause of death. Also like the other one, at first it had the strong odor you’re smelling. A body shouldn’t smell like that until they’re 3-5 days post-mortem. But based on the condition, my estimation for time of death is between 10:30pm-12am. It’s just...” she shakes her head. _“Weird.”_

A chill trickles down his spine. “10:30pm? You’re sure?”

She nods, furrowing her brows.

 _“Fuck,”_ he hisses through clenched teeth. He’s pretty sure that’s about when he left the bar. There were so many people on the sidewalk last night and he was distracted. Felix draws in a sharp breath... The man he bumped into went into the alley... Closing his eyes, he tries to recall the man. But it was such a fleeting, ordinary moment. 

“Well, well, well.” 

**_No_ ** _. Nooo. Not this bastard._

“This is an active crime scene, Gloucester,” Felix snaps. “Get behind the fucking line.”

The asshole ducks back under the yellow _do not cross_ tape and leans against the edge of the brick wall. His hands are raised placatingly as he gives Felix a cocky smirk. “Yes, Detective. Now, I’m just wondering how a murder happened right under the nose of the police? How _embarrassing_.”

Taking a deep breath, Felix holds it at the top. _1… 2… 3…_ then slowly blows out. The department has been dealing with his guy for five years. Everyone knows to not say a damn word to him, to leave it to Sergeant Detective Lecleric. But Lecleric isn’t here yet, and Gloucester is good- _very good_ \- at getting on their nerves. 

“I mean really...” Gloucester holds his cell up, clearing recording and hoping to get a rise out of Felix. “Mittlefrank’s just down the street and the precinct is a few blocks away.”

“We don’t comment on ongoing investigations.” He deadpans.

“ _Tsk tsk,_ how neglectful.” The purple-haired fuck continues. “Tell me, Detective. Were _you_ nearby? What could you have done to-”

“-now, now, Lorenz.” The cool, calm voice of Dimitri sounds as he appears with a fake smile. “How often does being an insufferable prick really help you? Do you even have friends?” 

Felix clenches his jaw. Great, now _two_ investigative reporters are here, neither are people he wants around.

 _“Dimitri,_ of course you’d show up. How are you going to explain the efficiency of the police when they can’t even keep their own backyard safe?”

While others can see a calm, composed Dimitri- only Felix knows of the vein toward the back of his neck that throbs when he’s focusing on controlling himself. 

“Just let the detectives do their work, Lorenz. I’m sure they haven’t even determined if there was foul play.”

Lorenz scoffs. “There’s a cold body. A death that could’ve been prevented-”

“-what about natural causes? What if he-”

“-looks like a young man from here, Dimitri-”

“-and young people can’t get sick?”

Shaking his head, Gloucester cackles. _“Always the popo’s puppy dog._ When are you-”

 _“Gloucester!”_ Felix barks authoritatively. “If you continue this line of inquiry, I'll have you arrested for interfering with a police investigation. And if you don't like it, take it up with Sergeant Lecleric.”

Gloucester is about to argue when he looks past Felix and his face pales. Flashing Felix and Dimitri dirty looks, he strides off as, right on cue, Lecleric appears at the detective’s side.

“Ah, while my intuition says he’ll be back later, I’m glad he’s gone,” Lecleric says.

When a civilian thinks of what a Sergeant Detective might look like, Felix will guarantee it’s the opposite of Lecleric. 

Yuri Lecleric is small in stature with lilac hair and eyes. With sharp facial features and lithe body, those who don’t know them probably wouldn’t find Lecleric intimidating. But they’re the last person you want to fuck with. Easily one of the smartest people someone could ever meet, their crass tongue is sharper than the blade in their scabbard. 

After Felix reports what he knows to Lecleric, he turns to make his way back towards the body when he hears the flap of caution tape moving. 

“Ugh, _really?_ Blaiddyd! Get behind the-”

“He’s signed all the paperwork, Fraldarius.” Lecleric says coolly. “If the District Attorney says it’s okay for him to cross the line, then he can.”

Felix is about to rebut the stupidity of DA Seteth permitting that to happen- especially after the accident two years ago- when Ingrid and Raphael came up.

“Hey, Dimitri!” Ingrid says, smiling at her childhood friend. “Good to see you. Oh, and Dedue wanted me to remind you to be careful of the markers.”

“It was only one time, Dedue!” Dimitri shouts jovially toward the other side of the alley, where the CSI is putting the dead cat in a bag. “You’ll never let me forget, huh?!”

The typically stoic man smirks. “No!”

“Dimitri! My man! Missed you last night!” Raphael booms, shaking his hand.

The blond smiles. “Ah, I wish I could’ve been there. But I have a lot of deadlines to meet. Might be awhile before I can come out again.” 

Felix rolls his eyes and walks away, not wanting to waste anymore of his time, when his phone rings.

“Fraldarius.” He says, using his hand to cover his other ear to listen better.

_“Hi Detective. We have the results of the fingerprints from the switchblade. They have been emailed to you.”_

Felix scowls at Dimitri, who keeps glancing over Ingrid’s shoulder at him. “Thank you, Mary.” 

After hanging up, he jerks his head- beckoning Dimitri to follow him. 

“Just one moment, please.” Dimitri says to the others before striding over, raising an eyebrow. “So… who was that?”

Felix clicks his tongue. “That was Mary. One of the lab technicians who runs fingerprints… they have my results.” He taps his phone angrily against his thigh. “When just yesterday they told me I wouldn't see it for at least another week.”

Dimitri smiles sheepishly. “Well, how about that-”

“I didn’t ask you to call in a favor,” Felix hisses. “Butt out of my investigation.”

The blond lets out a genuine, barking laugh. “Excuse me? No, not when there’s such a strange case to investigate. The roots? Bizarre undetermined deaths? I made the call for professional reasons, not personal. I’m assigned to this.” Then his eyes soften. He reaches out to touch Felix, but quickly retracts. “I know you asked me to give you space, and for the most part I have. But I’m not turning down what could be a very interesting story. No one else is snatching this up from me.”

Felix chuckles incredulously, “Oh hell no, this is _not_ your story. I know how you get, hanging around all the time. You’re just trying-”

“-to help? And there’s clearly something more going on here, Felix. What are those roots? They're not from any plant I’ve heard of.”

“You’re not a botanist or a forensic scientist. Claude will have an explanation. Anyway, all I wanted to say was back off.” Felix starts walking away again and grunts when he hears Dimitri’s footsteps.

“What are the results, Felix? You know I can talk to Yuri, or Jeralt, or Seteth and they’d approve my assignment.”

Felix curses. Dimitri has helped solve many crimes, which lead him to becoming an award-winning journalist only a few short years into his career. Between that and his charisma, he managed to forge close connections with many people, including those with power. The only reason he isn’t a detective is because he wasn’t interested in being a police officer. Which still confuses Felix, since his ex loves the thrill of diving into dangerous situations. 

While Dimitri is right, it’s still extremely annoying. 

“You’re forgetting that I’m a detective and you’re a civilian. I don’t care if you have connections.”

His ex rolls his eye. “I’m still right.” And he takes his phone out of his pocket. “I can call Jeralt, or you can just show me the email.”

Anger sweeps through Felix. Dimitri is not going to relent until he gets what he wants. _“You’re so pretentious,”_ he utters. Checking the email, concern suffuses his features as he reads the results. “Well _fuck.”_ His mind reeling, he doesn’t even realize that, out of habit, he shows Dimitri his phone.

Dimitri’s mouth falls open. _“Byleth Eisner?”_ He whispers, running a hand through his hair. “That… that’s not?”

“The Captain’s daughter?” Felix mumbles. “It has to be. Eisner isn’t a common name.”

“It’s hard to believe none of us have met her.”

Shrugging, Felix says, “Captain always said she’s really private.” 

“So,” Dimitri sighs. “What now?”

Opening a search engine, Felix types her name in. “I find her. And this stays between us until I learn more. You understand?”

Dimitri crosses his arms, an eyebrow raised. “Until _we_ find her and _we_ learn more. But yes I understand, that goes without saying.” 

_Tch, right. Because he thinks he’s coming._

  
  


***

This part of the city used to be nice. The bricks that were once bright, rosy shades are now rugged and earthen. Tired from all the leaning, poster glue, chips due to the use of gauntlets and axes in street fights, the cigarette butts put out on them, and many other peculiar or normal things. But as Felix strides down the sidewalk, sometimes checking his map app to ensure he’s going in the right direction, he appreciates the aging of the bricks. With its wrinkles and cracks and flaws. It’s not phony. It can’t deceive. Bricks are bricks. 

Slowing to a stop in front of a door that might have been white once, with a thick, frosted glass panel. He checks the suite number he has on his phone and the sign taped on the front.

**Suite 920**

**Eagle Investigations**

**BE - EH - HV**

Felix has to pause. He not only wishes that he didn’t leave his coffee tumbler behind, but it had at least a shot of bourbon in it.

_The Captain’s daughter… is a private investigator?_

_Really?_

Of all the things she could be. Could’ve been a Detective at another precinct, for Sothis’ sake. What this tells Felix is she prefers to play by her own rules. A smirk twitches at a corner of his lips. He’s heard stories of the Captain being argumentative his first few years on duty. So, guess his daughter is fairly similar… which also means this might not be easy.

He _should_ get a search warrant. Or maybe brought Ingrid with him. 

But… this is the Captain’s daughter, and when it comes to family members, sometimes an extra step needs to be taken first.

Twisting the rusted brass doorknob, he steps inside.

“Hello?”

He shivers- the office is cold. Not just in temperature, but in the sense that hope feels lost here. This place is in even crappier condition than the precinct. Along the walls are a bunch of grimy filing cabinets looking like they came straight from a landfill. A water cooler (the plastic tinged yellow due to age), and the textured eggshell paint walls are covered in brown water stains. 

Not much else is in this room besides a small round table with a bell on it. He taps it. Waits. Still nothing.

To the right, almost hidden by one of the tall filing cabinets, he notices a slightly open door. Walking through it, he finds in this second room are three desks. One with papers messily strewn about the top, another is neat with a flower-painted coffee cup full of highlighters and pens, and the last is plain with just one stack of papers. On the back wall is an evidence board, just like the ones at the precinct. It’s covered in photographs, newspaper clippings, post-it notes, and string everywhere trying to connect ideas together. 

“Anyone here?” Felix calls out again. Silence. 

He decides to take a closer look at the evidence wall, just to see what Byleth Eisner and possibly two co-workers are about. Seems like there are a few cases. Plenty of photos of people she might be tailing, and- _wait._

A photo of the black roots at the first crime scene. He recalls one of them was badly hacked at. Now he’s fidgety, his eyes quickly scanning over each photo and note to see if Byleth wrote anything about them, but he’s not seeing anything relevant. Just polaroids of strangers- no, no, there’s a photo of the woman from the first case, and the young man from today. _How… How did she get today’s?_

He’s itching to snatch the photo. But without a warrant, he can’t do shit except gaze at what’s out in the open.

“No one here, huh? Well, that’s somewhat disappointing.”

Surprised, Felix reaches to unsheath his dagger and groans when he realizes who it is. “Of course you followed me.” 

Dimitri flashes a toothy grin. “Oh come on, you didn’t actually believe I’d just ‘meet you later’? And giving me the wrong address? _Really?_ Like I wouldn’t just look it up myself?”

While Dimitri is smiling, it’s not genuine. There’s a trick to fake smiling so others believe it- broad grin, head slightly tilted to show interest, but Dimitri forgot to crinkle his eyes. If a person is either honest or trying to act like it, then the smile needs to show on the whole face. On top of that, Dimitri’s teasing tone is forced. It’s easier for him to put on this front with others, but he’s never needed to use this act around Felix, so it’s new for him.

But Dimitri keeps up the charade. “Looks like you need me, huh? Since you can’t touch anything.”

Felix raises his eyebrows. “Need you? All I need to do is call Galatea and have her get me a search warrant. So you can leave.”

The smirk that curves on Dimitri’s lips is real. “Yeah? Didn’t you tell me a half hour ago to not tell anyone yet because this is the Captain’s daughter? You’re going to be a hypocrite and wait a couple hours for a judge to approve a warrant just because you don’t like that I’m here?”

_Shit. He called my bluff._

Felix doesn’t protest when Dimitri joins him behind the desk and thumbs through the notebook. While reporters have rules, with Dimitri’s connections he wouldn’t get in as much trouble as Felix would. It can be fucking annoying, because this has gotten Dimitri into danger far too often... but it’s useful. 

“Look in the drawers,” Felix grumbles. “They have pictures of the roots and the victims.”

Dimitri stands abruptly and scans the evidence wall, his brows furrowing when he sees what Felix is referencing. _“What the…”_ He starts pulling the drawers open, quickly shuffling through the contents. He gasps when he looks in the bottom rightmost drawer. “Felix…” Straightening, he holds up a clear bag with the hacked root inside, and it’s slimy like expired asparagus. 

“What are you doing?” A deep voice slowly utters behind them.

Dimitri drops the bag and Felix snaps his hand to the hilt of his sword. At the door is a tall, brooding man in a well-trimmed onyx suit. Hair as black as coal is swept to the side, making only one lime green eye visible. He’s gazing at them through narrowed lids, but void of emotion. But what’s truly off putting is his stillness. He didn’t flinch at the thump of the bag being dropped, nor did he blink when Felix reached for his weapon. The man is just… _static._

Despite the creepy air to him, Felix assesses he’s _(currently)_ no threat. 

Felix taps the badge on his belt. “I’m Detective Fraldarius. This is Dimitri Blaiddyd, a reporter for The Fódlan Times. I’m looking for Byleth Eisner.”

The man frowns. “No one by that name works here.” 

“Hubert, it’s fine,” an even toned voice sounds from behind the tall man. “I know who the Detective is.” 

A small hand pats Hubert’s shoulder and he steps aside to reveal two women. The one Felix assumes spoke takes a step past the door frame and Felix clenches his jaw.

This has to be the Captain’s daughter. She has the same detached expression as her father and arches an eyebrow like he does when sizing someone up. She nibbles at her lip piercing as her gaze flickers between him and Dimitri, and he feels the intensity of someone working out their initial judgements. Maintaining eye contact with him, she slinks into the room toward the messy desk, casually leaning against and bites at her cuticles like it’s an ordinary day. 

“Are you Byleth Eisner?” Felix asks, stepping forward and holding her stare. Which is harder than it should be, her mint green eyes are immediately enticing. 

She smirks, lazily dropping the hand at her mouth onto her thigh with a slap. _“Sure am.”_

“Ms. Eisner-”

“-call me Byleth.”

“Byleth. Your fingerprints were found on a switchblade at a crime scene a few months ago. Is that familiar?”

“Say nothing, By.” The other woman steps toward Byleth. Brown-haired, petite in stature, but clearly has toned muscles under her tight red shirt. She has a hand on the axe in its holster, her lavender eyes flashing with distrust.

“El, it’s ok,” Byleth says reassuringly before bringing her attention back to Felix. “I was wondering where that went. Thanks for finding it.”

Felix scoffs. “I’m not here to return it. Since you confirmed it’s yours, I’m going to have to-”

He’s interrupted by her letting out a single, sharp laugh. “You’ll what? _Bring me in?”_ She walks around her desk, plopping in the rickety chair behind it. “Actually, you know what? Go ahead. It’ll be funny to see how my dad reacts to me in cuffs.” 

While Hubert lets out a soft chuckle, El snorts in frustration but keeps her mouth shut. 

Dimitri hums. “So you are the Captain’s daughter.”

She points to Dimitri and winks. “Correct.”

_Fan-fucking-tastic._

Not appreciating her cavalier attitude, Felix scowls. “The Captain will understand if I bring you in for being a suspect to a murder.”

Byleth snorts. Whipping out her phone, she taps on it. She lays it on the desk and smirks at him as the ringing fills the room. “Let’s just see what he says, huh?”

 _“Hey, kid.”_ Captain says, softer than the gruff Felix is used to.

Byleth twirls a bit of mint green hair around her finger. “Hey, dad. Got something to tell you.”

Captain moans. _“Uhg, alright. What do you need?”_

A smile tugs at her lips. “I may have forgotten to tell you I dropped a switchblade at the first crime scene.”

There’s a moment of silence until he finally snaps, _“What the hell, kid? How could you make such a basic mistake? And that’s already at the lab, Fraldarius is waiting on prints for it as we speak.”_ He sighs. _“I’ll have to talk to him.”_

She chuckles. “Funny you mention him. He got the fingerprints back and he’s here to arrest me.”

Captain snorts. _“Give him the phone.”_

“You’re on speaker.” She says, strumming her fingers on the hilt of the sword at her hip.

 _“Fraldarius,”_ he commands. _“You’re not bringing her in. Period. But kid, answer his questions so he understands. Got it?”_

“Maybe. Thanks-love you-bye.” And she hangs up. Just like that. 

Byleth looks at Felix and Dimitri with the most smug expression. “Told you.” 

“He also said to answer some questions,” Dimitri says, stepping away from the evidence wall toward Byleth. 

Hubert gets in his way. “The Captain was referring to Fraldarius. Not _you.”_

The chair squeaks as she gets up, and Byleth crosses her arms over her blue tie-dye crop top. “Hubert, if I wasn’t ok with him being here, he’d be gone. Now,” she looks at Felix. “Questions?”

Felix picks up the bag with the root. “To start, I’d like to know why you have a piece of evidence. Why do you have photos of the two victims? Then I’d like to know if this entire wall is connected to my case.” 

El huffs. “By! This is reckless. We don’t know them, and we’ve been making progress-” 

_“Slow progress.”_ She glances at El, who’s leaning against the doorframe, frowning. “They also have Crests. I’ve been doing this on my own a long time, got farther when I found you two, but now…” Byleth jerks her head toward Felix and Dimitri. “We need them.”

El rolls her eyes, and opens her mouth to argue further when Hubert cuts her off.

“She’s right, El.” Hubert grumbles. “We have not gotten further in our investigation. The situation is too great for us to bear alone.”

A few seconds go by before El stands up straight, her eyes hardening. “If they want information, we should test them.”

Hubert strokes his chin contemplatively, then smirks at Byleth. “I know just the test we can conduct.” Inexplicably, the way he said that sends a chill down Felix’s spine.

Seeming to know exactly what Hubert means, Byleth nods. 

Byleth smirks at Felix and Dimitri. “So, have you ever fought a Demonic Beast?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot Hapi doesn’t have a last name! Cinza means Grey in Portuguese. I thought it sounded cool. Close enough to ‘ashen’, haha. 
> 
> If you’re wondering about what I plan to do with Crests & what the heck is the Aegis ring about- y’all will find out in the next chapter lol
> 
> **I'll have a new chapter every two weeks! So I'm looking at the weekend of the 19th for chapter 3.**
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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